The Consultant
by pinkyndx
Summary: John has lived with Sherlock for a while now. How could things get weirder? Easy. Turns out the Holmes brothers know a girl who is so shrouded in mystery, no one ever sees her, or knows her name. So, what would happen if She comes out in the open? Baker St. is getting crazier by the day. And what will they think if she turns out not to be on the side of the angels?
1. Girl

"Time to chose a side, Doctor Watson" said the man as he walked away, casually swinging his cane.

"I'm to take you home." He heard his assistant say as he walked out of sight.

As he got into his car,he received a text. He looked down at the number with the strange caller ID. _The Consultant_. He smirked at the name she had given herself. He was getting closer to finding out her real name. To think, the great Mycroft Holmes, not knowing what a girl's name is. He read the text that she sent.

_Mikey, it's a bad thing to lie._

Mycroft frowned. What was she talking about. How could she possibly have come to that conclusion if she hadn't been near him any time recently.

_What do you mean?  
_**MH**

The answer was almost instant

_He has me, and I am his friend. You are not the closest thing to a friend to him, I am._

He was surprised. He had just said that a minuet ago, and she already knew about that. How powerful was she?

_He will never see you again, so what does it mater?  
_**MH**

He looked out at the crowd of the London night. Who out there were under her rule? Some of them certainly, but how can he even begin to learn anything. The only things he knew about her was the things he had deduced from the one time they met. She had wanted to prove to him that she was real, so she broke into his house. He got a new security detail after that day

_Glad we could talk. Hear from you later Mikey._

He cringed at what she had insisted on calling him. He didn't care what she had to say now, he still had to watch after his little brother.

~o0oOo0o~

John looked over to Sherlock as they walked away from Mycroft. He noticed the wide smile on his friends face.

"What are you happy about?" Sherlock smirked down at John.

"Moriarty"

"What's Moriarty?" Sherlock looked back up.

"I've absolutely _no _idea." he said cheerfully.

~o0oOo0o~

Right before Sherlock went to bed, he received a text from _The Consultant_. He smirked as he read her text.

_I like him. Why can he help you, but I can't? _

He didn't bother to answer her. A minuet later he received another text from her.

_Did you like my little game?_

He was surprised. She had set his last case up? The cabbie had told him it had something to do with a Moriarty. Had he been lying?

_Really? I thought it was Moriarty.  
_**SH**

He was surprised by how quickly he got a reply.

_Sherlock, you best forget that name._

Sherlock was instantly awake. So Moriarty is a person? How very interesting.

_Who is Moriarty?_  
**SH**

_It doesn't mater._

_Would I be asking if it wasn't?  
_**SH**

_Yes_

He frowned at this. She would be persistent in not telling him.

_Good night.  
_**SH**

_Night!_

~o0oOo0o~

John walked back from the store, not having found what he was looking for. He was almost to the door when he received a text. The number was unknown. Had it been an accident?

_Hi John!_

Obviously not.

_Who are you?_

_Me? AW~ You are nice, aren't you!_

What? Who was this strange person? John stepped up to the door of his flat, unlocking it as he received another text.

_If you must have a name, then it's The Consultant._

John looked at the phone in confusion.

_Who are you?_

_Don't worry. I won't kill you or anything, I'm just bored. Mycroft keeps me in hiding, and I don't have many people to talk to._

"Sherlock!" John shouted as he walked up the stairs. As he reached the door, his phone pinged again.

_Not nice John. Don't spoil the fun and tell him. Please?!_

"What is it John?" John walked in on Sherlock tuning his violin as he stared out the window. John held out his phone, waiting for Sherlock to grab it, but it seemed he didn't even notice it.

"Sherlock?" Sherlock looked at the phone as it pinged.

"What does it say?" asked Sherlock as he looked back out the window, still tuning his violin.

"It says: _John, you are no fun._" Sherlock bolted up, and snatched the phone from John's hands.

"Did she give a name?"

"What?" John stared at Sherlock as he began to pace, not even looking at the texts that were on screen.

"No, she's to smart for that. Why would she talk to you?" John grabbed his phone back before heading up to his room, continuing his conversation with the weird girl.

Sherlock looked at his phone as it pinged. He reached out to read the text.

_I just wanted to say hi. I hope you understand that._

Sherlock sighed. Knowing her, it was true. She hated lying in general around friends. What a weird concept, friends. He didn't even know her name. How could they be friends.

_I understand.  
_**SH**

_Thank you Sherlock. Can I see you soon?_

Sherlock frowned at the text. _Soon _he wished to say. He missed her as much as she did, but there wasn't much to do about it. Mycroft made sure of it.

_No. You need to stay home. how along are you with getting out?  
_**SH**

_Soon. Just a few more loose ends, then I'm free. Can't wait to see you again.  
_

With a smirk, Sherlock put the phone on the table, then proceeded to play her favorite song on his violin, knowing she would be listening to it where ever she was.

~o0oOo0o~

A girl sat in front of her laptop, gassing at the man playing the violin. It was her favorite song. She loved it when he played for her. He always was her favorite composer.

Her computer snapped shut, showing the foot that had done so. The girl looked up at her brother as he looked down at her.

"I told you, stop talking to him." The girl rolled her eyes at her brother as she stood up with the computer in her arms.

"Who else can I talk to Jimmy? Sissy is off with her adventures, you are never home, and he is lonely, just like me." The man walked out of the room, his voice trailing behind him.

"Jules, I just don't want to see you hurt."

The girl looked at her reflection in a mirror across the room. She grabbed the hair in her face. Her bangs. She hated her bangs, and the ugly white color they were. They always reminded her of the months she spent in Paris. Oh Paris. How she hated the french after that.

"A little to late for that brother."

**A/N:Hi! I've had this in mind for so long. Decided on posting it up. Hope you all like it. The girl in this chapter looks like the girl in the cover picture, but with white bangs. That's all.  
**


	2. Arrow

John sat in his chair, typing away on his blog, when he received a text from him invisible friend. He pulled out his phone to see what she had sent.

_DUCK!_

He looked around, but just to humor her, he leaned down. Not a second later, something whizzed past his head. John turned round to see an arrow sticking out of the wall, its trajectory going right through the space his head had just occupied.

"JOHN!" John looked to the door, seeing Sherlock out of breath, a relieved look on his face. "Thank goodness. You got out of the way. Sorry about that."

Sherlock walked over to the arrow, and examined it before pulling it out of the wall.

"She says hi." said John, reading his phone.

"Who is 'she'?" asked Sherlock, not really listening.

"She also said that she knows you can't hear me, and she is willing to come here just to hit you. I can agree with her on that. I want to go and punch you for her. See, she even just thanked me, if you were listening."

"That's nice John." said Sherlock as he walked into his room. John looked down at his phone, seeing a new text there.

_Don't let him bother you, he just has people problems. I'm sorry about the arrow though. Someone got to my computer, and saw that I had contacted you. It was either you, or Sherlock, and I guess they thought you were easier. Sorry again!_

John was surprised at this. How long had she been doing things that would cause this to happen.

_Why would someone do that to you?_

_It doesn't matter._

_Yes it does_

_I can't tell you_

_Why not_

_Because you need to hear it, not read it._

_Will I meet you?_

_Maybe one day. I'm getting close, so soon._

_Close to what?_

_Hear, not read John. On a latter date._

~o0oOo0o~

"How nice." said the girl on the other end of the phone. "Just like any other day, ignoring John. You really should stop doing that Sherlock."

She stared at her computer screen in wait, watching Sherlock examine the arrow in his room. So far he had deduced that the arrow was from France, but not quite where in France. He also realized that it was her who had caused the arrow to come through the window, not his most recent case.

He couldn't hear her, but she would talk to him anyways. Few people talked to her now a days. Her brother was always busy, her 'sister' wasn't allowed to see her, and she wasn't allowed to call anyone. Only her brother and his minions could talk to her. The minions were to scared to talk to her.

The girl sighed before getting up off the floor. She walked over to the wall where her radio was. "Well, who would like to keep me company today?" she asked her CD's as she grabbed one at random. "How about you. You like me right?"

Putting on the CD, she walked back to the middle of the room, closing her laptop with her foot before sliding it towards her bed. She closed her eyes and danced to the music, not bumping into anything. She laughed in glee at the feel of the air rushing past her. She hadn't felt it in for ever. She had been in there for at least six months.

Six. She hated that number. No one understood her weird ways, except her brother. Sherlock was close, but he hadn't known her before the incident. Speaking of witch, she had probably got more dye. She couldn't stand the white in her hair. She really should dye it black.

She heard the door open, along with the sound of her brother walking into the room. She didn't stop dancing until he called his name for her. "Julie? What are you doing?"

'Julie' smiled at her brother. "It's this new thing called dancing. You might have heard about it in what ever ally way you were in today. I hope you do keep clean in there. I've met a few of those people Jimmy, and I don't think that they would be the type of people you would talk face to face with." She walked over to her bed and flopped down on it, leaving enough space for her brother to sit, which he did.

"I had a few loose ends to tie up. Can you please look at me when I talk to you?!" Her eyes opened quickly, not wanting to anger her brother. Her eyes were closed? She didn't even notice.

"Sorry. Please don't yell at me."

'Jimmy' smiled down at his sister, grabbing her hand. "I don't want to, but I don't want you to that. it only helps the problems you have super girl."

Julie groaned. "Please don't call me that. I don't want any implication that he helped me in any form or fashion." Her brother frowned at this.

"How far are you?"

She smiled at the ceiling. "How far? I have one more person, and he will be taken care of in an hour."

"Good job. If you want, you can take one of the jobs I have. It is boring, and your friend will be attracted to it." Julie looked over to her brother.

"I can leave?"

"Yes." he said with a grimace. "I will hear if you do anything besides the case, so don't go running off. I will get you before you move a meter."

He was thrown off the bed in a ferocious hug via his sister. "THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!"

He laughed at his sister's childishness. "Just don't get yourself killed. Don't put shame to the family name."

She let her brother up off the floor before she opened her computer again. "Brother, when have I ever dishonored the name Moriarty?"

**A/N:Hi! thanks for the 11 follows already. So glad you all like this. What do you think about it? Please comment, it makes my day, and lets me know how I'm doing. Hope to hear from you all soon. Bye!**


	3. Tunnel

'Julie' looked over the group the was consulting. '_Why don't they listen?'_ she asked herself. It was plain to see that he wasn't Sherlock. When she told Shan his name was John Watson, she refused to believe her. You don't know what you're talking about, she had said. You are just working for him, not where near as smart or helpful.

If only they knew how smart she was. Not even a few minuets of talking to them, she had figured out who had the pin, but that wouldn't be fun. She let them guess and kill. Nothing better to do. She hadn't talked to anyone she knew in a week, and she was starting to feel lonely again. At lease it would be over tonight.

She looked over at John as he started to wake, staying in the shadows.

"A book is like a magic garden carried in your pocket," said Shan as she walked over to John, pushing up her sunglasses to the top of her head. "Chinese proverb, Mr. Holmes."

John looked around, noticing Sarah sitting in another chair near him, only gagged to keep her sobs at bay. He stared up startled at the woman in front of him, realizing that she had been the one that had been following him and Sherlock all day. "I, I'm not Sherlock Holmes."

Shan smiled humorlessly down at John. "Forgive me if I do not take your word for it." she said as she reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out his wallet. "Debit card, name of S. Holmes?"

John stared at the card in her hand. "Yes, that's not actually mine. He lent that to me."

Shan looked back in the wallet before pulling out a check. "A check for five thousand pounds made out in the name of Mr. Sherlock Holmes"

"Yeah, he gave me that to look after"

"Tickets from the theater, collected by you, name of Holmes."

"Yes, okay," said John, realizing how they had come to their conclusion. "I realize what this looks like, but I'm not him."

"We heard it from your own mouth."

"What?" John stared up at Shan. When had he ever claimed to be Sherlock?

"'I am Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone...'."

"Did I really say that?"

"Yes," said a voice in the shadows. "Not only that, but you continued with '...because no one can compete with my massive intellect.'. Realy not your best move John."

Shan spun on her heal, glaring at Julie. "Silence. I will not have you mess this up!"

John looked over at the girl in the shadows. She had a leather jacket, and jeans, but what he noticed was the white in her bangs.

"I can't mess up what you already trashed."

Julie started to giggle to herself as Shan spun back to John, pointing her pistol at him. "I am Shan."

John looked back up at the woman in front of him. "You're... _You're_ Shan?"

"Three times we've tried to kill you and your companion: the flat in Chinatown; the museum; tonight at the theatre. What does it tell you when an assassin cannot shoot straight Mr. Holmes?"

Shan cocks her pistol as John tries to loosen his bonds some how. He looked up into the barrel of the gun, hoping that he wouldn't die as she pulled the trigger.

Click

"It tells you that they're not really trying." said Shan as she grabbed a clip from her pocket, putting it in her gun. "Blank bullets. Fired at the museum. And the fight in Soo Lin's flat, your companion was allowed to go free. If we wanted to kill you Mr. Holmes we'd have done it by now. We just wanted to make you inquisitive. Nothing like firing a gun at someone, to make them think they're on the trail of something special. We haven't found what we seek, but no matter. Now we have our own sniffer dog. Sherlock Holmes.

"The rat who gnaws at the tail of the cat only invites destruction." Shan said as she cocked her gun. "Not blank bullets now."

Julie laughed in her corner, falling out of the shadows. "If there weren't any bullets, then how could they be blanks?"

Shan turned around and shot barely above Julie's head before turning around and aiming the gun at John."If we wanted to kill you Mr. Holmes, we would have done it by now. We just wanted to make you inquisitive. Do you have it?"

"Do I have what?" replied John, not quite sure what she was talking about.

"The treasure."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I would prefer to make certain" Shan smirked as she turned around, looking at one of her men as they pull the cover off the crossbow in the middle of the room, the same one that was featured in the circus, with an arrow already loaded. Shan turned back to a worried John. "Everything in the west has a price, and the price for _he_r life, information."

John looked over at Sarah as two men grabbed her chair, carrying her over to the crossbow. "Sorry. I'm sorry." he said, anguish showing through his voice as Sarah cried through her gag, turning a glare at John.

Shan leaned down close to John. "Where's the hairpin?'

"What?"

"The Empress pin valued at nine million sterling. We already had a buyer in the West; and then one of our people was greedy. He took it, brought it back to London and you, Mr. Holmes, have been searching."

"Please. Please, listen to me. I'm not... I'm not Sherlock Holmes. You have to believe me. I haven't found whatever it is you're looking for."

"I need a volunteer from the audience!"

"No, please. Please!" John shouted in desperation.

Shan turned around, pointing at Sarah as she walked towards her. "Ah, thank you, lady. Yes, you'll do very nicely." Shan slashed the bag of sand, starting the count down of the crossbow. She turned back to Sarah, an unnoticed Julie standing up where she sat. "Ladies and gentlemen. From the distant moonlit shores of NW1, we present for your pleasure Sherlock Holmes' pretty companion in a _death_-defying act."

"Please!" John shouted as Shan leaned down to place a black origami lotus flower on her lap. Shan looked up into Sarah's eyes.

"You've seen the act before. How dull for you. You know how it ends."

"I'm not Sherlock Holmes!" John shouted frantically, noticing Julie as she started to walk towards the end of the tunnel.

She turned to glare at John. "I don't believe you."

"You should you know."

Shan spun around to see the silhouette of Sherlock st the end of the tunnel. "Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him."

"Sherlock." Julie whispered as Shan cocked her gun, pointing it at the shadow of Sherlock

They could see Sherlock run into the shadows, blending in completely. one of Shan's men started at Sherlock as he continued.

"How would you describe me John? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?" said Sherlock, clicking the 'c' on his last word.

"Late?" replied John, breathing a sigh of relief.

"That's a semi-automatic. If you fire it, the bullet will travel at over a thousand meters per second."

"Well?" said Shan still pointing her gun at the shadows.

"Well..." Sherlock jumped out of the shadows, hitting the man that had been searching for him across the stomach, jumping back into the shadows before Shan could take aim. "The radius curvature of these walls is nearly four metres. If you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone. Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you."

Before anyone could register what happened, Sherlock ran up to one of the barrels, and kicked it down, extinguishing the fire within. Shan panicked, realizing the area he was in just became more impossible to see. She ran out of the tunnel, followed closely by Julie.

**A/N: Next time, Julie meets John face to face with him knowing who she is. Any comments?**


	4. Blood

On the way back to their flat, Sherlock and John were silent. Sherlock was thinking about the case, and who had the treasure, while John was thinking about the two who had gotten away. Not only Shan had gotten away, but so had that girl.

That girl.

What was wrong with her? Had she wanted to get hurt? The way he saw things was that she must have been there for the hell of it. She found everything amusing, but never once looked like she wanted him or Sarah hurt. So why was she there.

John looked out the window as they reached their flat. Sherlock pulled out his phone and started to text someone. John didn't care what Sherlock was doing, he just wanted to get home.

As they turned on to Baker Street, John saw someone leaning against the door to their flat. "Sherlock, who's that?"

Sherlock looked up as the car stopped. Out of the window, he could see a young girl leaning against the door to 221 Baker St. Sherlock's mind raced as he deduced her.

_She wore a leather jacket that looked to be covered in a dark colored substance, most likely blood. She wore jeans that had little drops of blood on them, with each knee covered in mud. Her hair was covered in mud, disguising the original color. She must have knelled down in the mud to put it in her hair, but why did she do that? Her face was covered by her hair and even more mud. Why wouldn't she want to be recognized? Next to her was a messenger bag with little drops of blood on it. Must be hers, with the smudge marks from trying to get the blood leaned against the door in wait. Waiting for them? She was clutching her side. With the efforts she made to disguise herself, she wouldn't do that, unless-_

"Take her upstairs John, she was shot in the stomach." Sherlock said as he paid the taxi driver.

John jumped out of the cab, running to the door. He leaned down, trying to see her face. "Are you ok? Do you need help?"

The girl shook her head lazily, as if in pain, and barely staying awake. John helped her up, and took her upstairs as Sherlock sauntered up to the door, grabbed her bag, and proceeded to go upstairs. He heard John rummaging around upstairs as Ms. Hudson rushed out of her flat.

"Oh dear, you two make a racket. What is he doing up there?" She said as Sherlock walked up the steps.

"A woman was outside. He's helping her."

"Will you need anything?" Ms. Hudson said with concern.

"I think we will be fine Ms. Hudson."

Upstairs, John tended to the injured girl.

"How did you get shot?" John asked as Sherlock walked in, heading towards the kitchen.

"How did you know I was shot?" asked the girl in a small quiet voice. Halfway to his microscope, he froze, and turned around, looking at the girl, her face still covered.

"What did you say?"

"How did you know I was shot? I could have been stabbed."

"Sorry." John apologized as she hissed in pain. Sherlock stared at the girl, a curious gleam in his eyes.

"It was a simple deduction. I could see that-"

"No it wasn't." she said, interrupting him. "I could have been stabbed, and with the way I held myself, it would have made more sense that I had gotten stabbed."

"The likelihood of you getting stabbed and still coming here are slim to none. What I want to know is why you came here. We might not have come here tonight, and you would have stayed the entire time. Why?" He looked down at the sleepy girl. She yawned as John finished cleaning her up. Despite ll the mud that covered her, he could see was hanging on to her consciousness.

"Oh Romeo, forgot about me already?" she asked as she rested her head against the back of the couch.

John looked confusedly at a frozen Sherlock. "What did she mean by that?" Sherlock stood there shocked. It couldn't be, could it?

"Out of my way!" shouted Sherlock as he ran into the kitchen, emerging soon after with a wet cloth. He knelled in front of the girl, slowly wiping her face clean of all the dirt. "Did she give you a name while I wasn't here?"

"Yes," replied John, just as clueless as ever. "She said her name was Alice."

"Any last name?" asked Sherlock, a smirk sneaking its way onto his face.

"I believe it was Carroll." John leaned over Sherlock's shoulder, trying to recognise the face that was getting cleaner by the second.

"She always wanted to fall in the rabbit hole," said Sherlock, memories overflowing in his head.

"So, who is she?" asked John with a smile at his friends humanity.

Sherlock stood up, his face void of all emotion as he threw the cloth at John, sitting down in his chair. "You know her too. She has been texting you and I, Mycroft too I would guess. 'The Consultant' she calls herself. She never gives her real name, and she never sees anyone face to face."

"Then why is she here if she never sees anyone?" John stood puzzled, looking back at the girl.

"I don't know. I guess she-"

"It's her!" shouted John, looking back to Sherlock. "The girl that followed Shan out of the tunnel. It was her!"

Sherlock looked over to her before looking back to his friend. "What could she have been doing?"

~o0oOo0o~

In a basement at the same time, the girl's brother 'Jimmy' stormed into her room. He looked around before spinning around, and storming straight back out of there. As he got to the car waiting for him, he pulled out his phone, and sent two texts.

_Find her, she isn't in her room._

He looked out the window as his texts were sent.

_Send some one to follow Shan. She won't survive the week._

**A/N Hi! This chapter had at least twenty different outcomes. The only reason it came out today was because not only did my friend yell at me, but so did a review, and it made my day. Please tell me what you think. I can't give you all things you like unless I know what it is you like. Till next time my friends.**


	5. Tea

Sherlock and John had left for the bank before Julie awoke. She woke up slowly, as if she were in her own bed, not wanting the warm grasp of sleep to drop her into the icy coldness of reality. Wishing that her dreams were reality, and awake was the dream.

In all honesty, if Sherlock had waited for John to get ready instead of grabbing him and leaving, they would have been there when she woke up.

Julie stretched with a yawn, slowly twisting before falling to the floor with a small _ugh_. Looking around, she noticed how different everything looked. She was at home. How was all of this in her room?

She slowly stood, looking for something to drink before her gaze set on the kitchen. Definitely wasn't there the day before.

Shuffling into the kitchen, she grabbed a kettle, and put it on the stove, heating the water that was left in it from the unmade tea John had wanted to make before being, like usual, dragged out by Sherlock. She looked around in the cupboard, moving jars of various appendages in search for small packets of her special brand of tea. Sherlock had made it a point to correct her whenever she referred her preferred drink as 'tea', because even though it is made with a kettle, hot chocolate is not tea.

Grabbing the hot chocolate mix, she made herself some before going back to the couch, and just sitting there. She brought the cup to her mouth, but took no drink. Inhaling the scent of her drink, she looked around in an attempt to wake up.

"No," she said, her cup still to her mouth. "I don't think this is my room, it's to big for that. What animal skull is that? Nice headphones though. It must be new. New? Why wouldn't it be new, I have a new room. Why does this place look like Sherlock's home? Am I still even in London? I might be in France. I don't like France, the gangs there are rude. I hope I never- Oh. Someone's at the door."

Julie looked over at the door as footsteps were heard coming up the stairs. "Sherlock!" shouted John, as he walked in, not noticing the curious girl on their couch. "Is there anything edible in here?" John walked to the fridge as Sherlock walked in, pulling off his scarf and coat.

"John, almost everything here is edible. You are edible for quite a lot of species if you would like me to list them for you."

Sherlock smirked to himself as he heard John muttering to himself, the words _smart ass_, and _ edible_ clear as he was heard banging around in the kitchen in hopes for something to eat.

"There is tea. I made some. Haven't had any of it, but I bet it tastes good," said a small voice as Sherlock turned around, looking down at the girl on his couch. She sat quietly on the couch, one leg under her while the other swung slowly off the edge in her normal fashion. Her hair was still covered in mud, and he couldn't tell the color.

"That's not tea, it's hot chocolate," said Sherlock, walking over to his chair. Julie stared at him as he folded his hands, watching her with curiosity in his eyes.

"I know. You correct me every time I get tea."

"Hot chocolate."

"Tea."

"Hot chocolate."

"Tea."

"Hot chocolate."

"Sherlock," said John as he decided on making tea, still oblivious to the girl on his couch. "Did you say something?"

"Sherlock, it's tea. Can't you just accept that?"

"I refuse to believe that that can ever be considered as tea."

"But Sherlock, it's a tea."

"No it's not. I won't have the average mind set to think so."

"Please Sherlock, stop being so boring and just admit it!" Sherlock raised an eyebrow at this, a smirk sneaking its way onto his face.

"Stop being so childish." Julie smiled in realization of what he was doing.

"If you stop being so dull."

"Sherlock, what are you- Oh," said John, finally noticing the girl on his couch. "You're awake."

Julie looked at John with a smile on her face. "Yup, And I might be able to stay. I'm so exited!"

"What do you mean 'stay'?" Even though John didn't know the girl very well, he had been talking to her for quite some time, and had somehow managed to save his life. If anything, he wanted to speak with her to see what she was like. there is only so much you can learn from a text.

"Brother doesn't like me outside. He thinks I can't handle myself."

"You can't," said Sherlock, interrupting her. "You try to poison yourself for fun. I wouldn't consider that handling."

"Sherlock," said Julie annoyedly, "You are being rude. What happened to the manners that Mickey taught you?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her. "Being evasive I see." Julie smirked as she opened her mouth, but closed it, looking at the ground with an ashamed look on her face. "Something wrong?" he asked, an amused tone in his voice. Julie looked up at him, seeing his head nod ever so slightly, telling her that it is ok to continue with what she was going to say.

"You're a freak, you know that?"

Sherlock smirked at her, realizing that she didn't want to call him a freak, but was just playing their little game. Well, two could play that game.

"Gullible." Julie smiled at the word.

"Hopeless."

"Idiot."

"Juvenile"

"Knock-off."

"What!" shouted Julie, clearly annoyed. "If I'm a knock-off, then of what. Also, that doesn't even start with a 'K'!"

"What do you mean 'that doesn't start with a K'?" asked John, very confused.

"Of me, and yes it does," said Sherlock, triumph clear on his face.

"Sherlock, what are you saying?" John said, trying to figure out what is happening to the other two in the room.

"Liar!" shouted Julie as she held out her hand out to John in a shushing motion.

"Murderer."

"Nuisance."

"What are you two going on about?"

"Obvious."

"Pest."

"Questionable."

"Respectless."

"Seriously, what are you two saying?"

"Slow."

"Thoughtless."

"Unreachable."

"Vile"

"STOP!" shouted John, very annoyed at this point.

"Wild," Sherlock said, causing Julie to let out a small giggle as she put her cup down, still not having dank any of it..

"What are you two going on about?" shouted John, who had had enough by this point. What could they possibly be doing?

"We list off insults in alphabetical order at each other, alternating per letter. Come John, was it that hard to figure out?"

John stared at Sherlock in disbelief. Was this one of the things that he does for fun? Both men drew their gaze to Julie as she laughed hysterically, her eyes closed as she fell to her side, trying to breath from how hard she was laughing. "I LOVE this place!" She exclaimed as she tried to calm herself down.

**A/N: I feel like I could have done more, but this is good enough. I have the next two chapters planned out, and on the way. I really appreciate comments, so please send some my way. Til next chapter!**

**~Pinky**


	6. Past

After facing far too much idiocy for a day, Sherlock decided to go to his room. He could hear the girl and John talking, certain that she had cleared up any confusion. He had said "Jane, don't keep him up too late would you?" in a rather irritated tone before twirling around and leaving them for the comfort of his room.

Jane.

What to do with Jane.

He knew it wasn't her real name, but she did say that it was the closest guess he had made yet. He could not for the life of him figure out what her name was. He had gone for ten straight minutes before giving up on guessing. That had been years ago, before she had left on another job.

Oh, he knew what she did. He knew how she would travel to famous cities in different countries, and would give her offers to both the gangs, and the police. She would always ask the gangs first. One day, she would just show up in the boss's office and tell them the same thing she told all her clients. For a month, she would help them, in return for board and meals. Most accepted, and came out on top of the city. The town would be so overrun by crime, sometimes she had to leave early so as not to get caught.

There were always those few who would kick her out. She would go straight to the police, and give them the same offer. In a way, his brother's refusal of her offer to help all of England was how they had met. Still, on the off chance they accepted, all crime would cease, and she would leave. Even fewer are the times when the gangs would try to kill her. It would make sense they would want to, since she had just showed up out of no where, and just sat there with her offer looking like she owned the place. If they accepted, she almost did, but if they tried to kill her...

Very few had survived those small few times that had would always keep contact with them even when she got home. If they needed her help afterwards, even the police force, she would have a small fee, but it was always fool proof. Even they didn't know her name, but even with the random names they dub her with, they all had called her at one point, The Consultant.

It was her job description in a way, consulting on both sides of the crime, and she would always tell him about it afterwards. She needed someone to tell, and it intrigued him to hear about how other countries ran. She had said a few times that her brother knew, but never really said anything about him. Sherlock almost tried to remember what it is that she had said about her brother, but he decided against it. There were other things that he had to think about.

After she had made her offer to Mycroft, he had met the woman, and was amazed - not that he would ever admit that - by how just by listening into his conversation, she had been able to solve his crime for him. It wasn't the greatest first impression on the Holmes boy, but it had made an impact.

He hadn't seen her for little over a month when she had showed up, drinking hot chocolate, and telling him all about her trip. Over time, they had become friends in that strange way only a sociopath can. They would talk, solve crimes, and he would sometimes teach her how to deduce. She always told him where she would go before she went on a trip, and the day she would get back. It had always been the same, until she went to France.

She didn't tell him where exactly, but when she got back, she was beyond annoyed. All she could say was how stupid 'he' had been, not specifying on who her rage was pointed against. After a week, they had met up again, and just as she was about to start telling him about her trip, a van pulled up, and took her away. He had searched high and low for her, but after three months, Lestrade had convinced him to help the Yard again.

He didn't hear anything from her until a little over six months after she had been taken. She had texted him that she was fine, and had a conversation with him, containing all sorts of proof that she was who she claimed to be. She had told him that her brother thought it safer that she stay with him, and not go outside at all. She claimed to be happy spending more time with her brother, but Sherlock saw through to how lonely she was.

Her showing up at their door step had been the first time he had seen her since that day she was taken. He wanted to know what happened to her, and who had done it. He wanted to help her, and to find the people who had done her wrong. He wanted to protect her, and keep her safe. Which way would be safer be safer for her.

One of the things that intrigued him was how in the six about months she was gone, the crime rate increased drastically, and as soon as she had texted him, no evil doers plagued the street. It was as if they had known she had returned, and stayed where they were to let her have rest from what ever had happened.

The rise in crime was the reason behind his brother finding interest in his friend. Mycroft told Sherlock that with her brother, as she claimed, the streets were safe again, and that if it was her causing it, then he had to keep her out. If She was gone, the crime took her place, and Mycroft didn't approve. He had even said that if she were caught on the streets again, he would send his lackeys to grab her, just so that she could be 'safe', and out of harm's way, hopefully a way to keep the crime down wile gathering information on every continent on the world.

He had gone through her bag, and besides the little candies she always kept to keep herself satisfied, there was a computer. He had tried to unlock it, but it required exactly fourteen characters, and he had no clue as to what they could be. He guessed it was her real name, considering how she was the only one besides her brother who knew it.

The laughter in the other room was starting to annoy him. Why couldn't they just quiet down and let him think?!

~o0oOo0o~

Moriarty sat listening to this dull woman on his computer. He only listened because his little Julie was with the woman. How Julie had begged to go outside. He had only allowed her to help with this client because it would be safe for her, and she had gotten people to kill both Mycroft's men, and the few men still around, hoping to recapture her. He could understand why someone would want her, but they were all too late. He had gotten to her first.

"Without you, without your assistance, we would not have found passage into London. You have my thanks."

He rolled his eyes. _BORING!_ This woman was so pathetic. He typed his reply to her thanks.

M: GRATITUDE IS MEANINGLESS  
M: IT IS ONLY THE EXPECTATION OF FURTHER FAVOURS  
M: AND WHAT OF THE GIRL I SENT  
M: WAS SHE OF ANY HELP

"She was of little help, and endangered the whole plan. She is probably bleeding in some ally as we speak. We did not anticipate... We did not know this man would come, this Sherlock Holmes," said Shan, concern clear on her face. "And now your safety is compromised."

_WHAT?_ This woman had just _left _his little sister bleeding out in some ally in the great city of London?! Had she not realize that someone sent from him was to be treated as if it were himself?! How _dare _this woman do this to his sister.

M: DID YOU NOT THINK YOUR ACTIONS WOULD NOT HAVE REPERCUSSIONS

"I have no idea what you mean, but I promise to never tell of your identity." said Shan, panic slipping into her speech.

M: YOU WILL NEVER MAKE THIS MISTAKE AGAIN  
M: I AM CERTAIN

He watched as the woman on video got shot in the head. A satisfied smirk settled on his face as he watched the life pour out of her. _No one will ever hurt my sister again. NO ONE._

**A/N: Hi! Almost done with the next chapter. Favorite and comment if you like, and I will see you soon!  
**

**~Pinky**


	7. Present

That night, John had insisted that 'Jane' wash up. Her clothes were covered in dirt, and her skin tone had grown unrecognizable. She had protested, but eventually, the doctor had won, and Jane had gone into the bathroom. Right as she entered the bathroom, Sherlock had come out of no where, and handed her a robe. Understanding what he meant, she grabbed it, and emerged a minute later, handing him her clothes for the wash.

Jane didn't spend too long to wash up. All she did was just get everything off of her. What took time however, was her hair. Her white streak in her otherwise midnight hair. She had gained it over the six months she was captive, and proved as a reminder that she had gone through it. In her mind, she saw it as a reminder that however far she ran, however long she hid, she was always his, and he would never let go.

In all honesty, she would rather be on her brother's bad side than his. He was her ultimate evil. His name would forever be seared into her memory, ever letting her let go.

Gustave. She had always thought the name belonged to a small little boy who would have a perfect little life. That was just what the name had made her think. But after her run in with him, she was forever changed.

She stared into the mirror, staring at the white in her hair. She was terrified at what they would think. John might put it off as hair dye, and that she just liked it that way, but Sherlock would see what it was. He would ask her questions about those six months. Questions she didn't want to answer. Would he do anything about it? Would he be angry, or flood her with pity? She was scared to find out, and she just wanted to leave.

She pulled on the robe before leaving the bathroom in search for her clothes in the cold. She was surprised he still had it. Before, she had spent so much time with Sherlock, they practically lived together. She had left the robe there because of the innumerable amount of times she had stayed the night.

She slowly walked over to the sofa, finding her wet clothes near it, drying. She grabbed them, but before she could turn around to go back in the bathroom to put them on, a voice from behind her called out. "You don't want to leave, but you feel the need. You know that both I and John want you to stay, but you don't care. Why?"

Jane silently cursed herself. She should have known he would be there, that he would do something like this. If she really didn't want to talk to him about it, she could have easily just walked out to a cab, and gone home. She instead chose to talk about it. Couldn't she just make up her mind?

Without turning around, she replied "Because I want to stay friends, and if I stay, I fear we might not stay that way."

Sherlock unable to see her face was taken aback. Friends? He had friends? He supposed that by society's standards they were friends. He, the great Sherlock Holmes, had a friend?

"Friends. What would make me not want to be friends with you? Nothing can come to mind."

Jane almost turned around at that. Nothing comes to mind in all of his mind palace? No. Impossible. He just didn't want to tell her that.

"I just need to go, ok Sherlock?" she said with a small quiver in her voice. Sherlock slowly walked towards her, looking to see what was wrong. After a small shiver from her, he walked over to his coat, grabbing it, and walking back towards her.

As soon as the warmth from Sherlock's coat enveloped her, she dropped the clothes, instead grabbing the edges of the coat to bring it closer to her while attempting to hide her hair. She didn't know why she even stayed in London. She hated the cold, and that was one thing London never ran out of. She supposed the only reason for wanting to stay was to see Sherlock. He was the only person who actually cared for her that wasn't family. It felt... nice to know that she was one of the few people that could get him to act human.

"Then why are you trying to convince yourself more then me?"

Sherlock was silent as Jane turned around, his eyes darting straight to her hair. White! Her hair had turned white. It was not dyed, that was clear by the natural look to it, but also the pain in her eyes. What could have possibly happened to her that had made her hair turn whi-

Those months.

"Sherlock, don't." said Jane as she watched his eyes fill with anger as he looked at her hair. "No questions, no deductions, and no staring. I won't talk about it, and I don't want you to know about-"

She was cut off by his arms wrapping around her. He could see it pained her to talk, and he knew that a hug would calm her. He didn't enjoy them, but knew that she did, and they could easily calm her down. She wrapped her arms around him, loving the extra warmth, and the chance to stop talking.

As they let go, they silently agreed that it was a topic not up for discussion. "John might ask."

Jane smirked up at him. "He'll ask why I dyed my hair."

Sherlock smirked in agreement before turning around, walking to his room. "I shall get you some night clothes. You can sleep in my bed, I don't think I will be sleeping tonight."

Jane laughed, following him into his room, still holding his coat to herself. "But your case is over, and I refuse to be the reason that you don't get any sleep. I can tell you're tired and need sleep. You should get the bed. I have almost spent as many nights on a sofa as you have."

Sherlock handed her the night clothes that he had kept for her after she had left and left the room, letting her get dressed without any prying eyes. "I have an experiment I want to do before I sleep, and it will take a great deal of time to finish and wrap up."

"Well," said Jane as she emerged in her night clothes, a pair of matching purple pajamas, slightly like what he was wearing. "I refuse to let you stay up, or take the sofa, and you refuse to let me take the sofa, so besides both of us staying up all night, witch neither of us will agree to, I can only see one solution. Well," she said, turning to go back in the bedroom, "besides me leaving. But neither of us, again, will let that happen."

Sherlock watched as she walked to the far side of his bed, and got in, leaving a lot of space for him. Walking over, he narrowed his eyes at her. "What if I refuse to sleep in my bed?"

"Well, I'll just follow you to where ever your experiment is, and lay on it. Stop arguing. I'm too tired to think," she said with a grumble as she turned slightly to get more comfortable.

Sherlock rolled his eyes before giving in and laying down next to her. It wasn't the first time that they had shared a bed. On those few occasions that she didn't know who the criminal was, she would help him on a case. Small were the number of times they had to go out of town for those cases, and since they would share a hotel room for the case, they had to share the bed also. He saw no difference between now and then, except for the thought that they hadn't seen each other in so long, and this is what happened.

What was with them? He didn't need John to tell him how unusual it was, but soon all his thought turned to mush as he fell to sleep, a sleep that, like she had said, he needed.

**A/N: I just looked at the favorite and follow count, and wow. I can't believe people are reading this. Hope you like the chapter. I have no idea how it ended up this way, I just wanted them to talk about things, then this happened. More to come. See you all soon!**


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